Abelard and Heloise
by Overhill
Summary: Act 2: Umbridge vs. Snape.  A Ravenclaw seeks vengeance against Prof. Snape, while Dolores Umbridge is ruling Hogwarts. Rated M for references to historical events. Question for story readers: Which Hogwarts' ghosts would you like to see in a play?
1. Act 1

**Abelard and Heloise**

**Act 1 – Selecting the Play**

**Scene One – the Ravenclaw Rehearsal room**

Richard Goodfellow, Ravenclaw, sixth-year, sat curled up in the window of the Ravenclaw Rehearsal room and stared out the window to the courtyard below. He was absentmindedly tapping his head with his wand, charming his hair to match the heads below.

There went Crabbe. Tap. Richard's hair became dark with a pudding bowl cut. Malfoy. Tap. Straight blond hair. Goyle. Tap. Very short dark hair.

It was the first day of the school year. Breakfast was going on in the nearby Great Hall. Students were walking in the courtyard on their way to classes.

A Weasley twin. Tap. Red hair. The other twin. Tap. Red hair.

Richard was annoyed. He'd gotten the schedule of what dates the theatrical troupe could have for their plays, and the first was October seventh, a month away, and a Hogsmeade weekend at that. Not enough time to buy rights, let alone do a decent job of it. This would, of course, have to happen on his first directing job.

A blond girl walked by. Tap. Blond hair. Cho and Marietta were in the courtyard. Tap. Black hair. Tap. Brown hair.

To make it work, someone-probably Jerome Pye-would have to write an original, he thought. The play would have to be done "on book", as there would not be time to memorize, so it would have to be something where the books might also be props. If the play could be based on literature that was already in the public domain, it wouldn't take long to put it together.

The problems were now challenges. He felt better.

Professor Snape was in the courtyard. Tap. Straight black greasy hair.

Richard felt a wave of anger. If Professor Snape hadn't told others about Professor Lupin being a werewolf, then Lupin would have been the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher instead of the phoney Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody. "Uncle Al" would not have suffered as he had (he spent a month recovering at St. Mungo's Hospital), and Cedric Diggory would still be alive. And the Yule Ball... Richard firmly stuffed his memories of it back into the furthest recesses of his mind.

Professor Snape had told a secret: Professor Snape now owed a secret. Only what secret could Professor Snape have that was as devastating as Professor Lupin's?

Harry Potter. Tap. Dark messy hair. Ron Weasley. Tap. Red hair.

The Professor was still there, lingering. Tap. Straight black hair again. What was he waiting for?

Students continued to pass by. Tap. Blond braids. Tap. Tawny tresses. Tap. Dread-locks. Tap. Bushy brown hair. The Professor then left in a swirl of robes.

Richard peered out the window at the familiar activities and frowned thoughtfully as he watched Hermione Granger catch up to her friends.

**Scene Two – the Potions classroom**

Richard quietly slipped into the classroom where the fifth-year Slytherins and Gryffindors were finishing up double Potions. The room was noisy; the students were handing in what looked to Richard to be an odd assortment of potions. The bell rang. Harry Potter was the first to leave the room, storming angrily out of the door. Draco Malfoy sauntered after him. Then most of the class left, followed by Crabbe assisting Goyle, whose robes were smouldering. It did not look like Professor Snape had had a good day. But then, Richard doubted if he ever did.

Richard hurried over to where Professor Snape sat at his desk. He glanced over the class, looking for Granger. She was still sitting at a table, stuffing parchments back into her bag, her friend Weasley sitting next to her.

"To what do I owe the honour of your visit?" Professor Snape asked Richard, while watching Longbottom chip something out of his cauldron.

"Thank you, Professor, sir. I've got a Potions problem. I need to 'paint' the ghosts so that they show up on stage. I was thinking of doing _A Christmas Carol_for the Christmas holidays," he said as his eyes scanned the glass flagons.

"_A Christmas Carol_. So the Grey Lady would be Christmas Past, the Fat Friar, the Present, and the Bloody Baron, the Future. I would have thought you would do something more original," Professor Snape said, sneering as Longbottom brought up his sample, which looked like a rock perched on top of the flagon's mouth.

"Having ghosts play the ghosts is original, sir." Richard tried to look earnest.

"Of course. Very original," he dryly remarked. "How would you 'paint' them?" The teacher rearranged the flagons, putting them in order of quality.

Richard could see that there were four that looked like they might be the Draught of Peace. Longbottom's looked like Chunk of Curb. Who knew what the rest were?

Richard covertly glanced over at Granger, who looked like she was talking with Weasley. Most of the other students were gone. He raised his voice slightly. "Like how Sir Nicholas was treated with the Mandrake Draught-–using an atomizer or a mister, sir. If the paint or dye could be made with a polarity that would bond with the plasma of the ghost, that might work," Richard suggested.

She looked up at Professor Snape. The teacher glanced back at her, and then down to the flagons. Richard noticed him separate hers from the rest. Two of the others were the same shade as hers, but Draco's was just a hair off.

"Sir, without paint, the ghosts simply vanish under the stage lights. And even if the lights are dim, they're still too bright to see the ghosts," Richard added.

"It does sound interesting." The Professor mused. "I could present it in the N.E.W.T.s class."

"Professor Snape, might I be able to work on the project?" Granger spoke up eagerly.

"Five points from Gryffindor for listening in on a private conversation. No, you may not."

"Private conversation. Ha! You could hear it all the way to the Hufflepuff common room," Weasley snorted.

"Five more points for cheek, Mr. Weasley, and five more for your listening in. Anything else, Mr. Goodfellow?"

"No, thank you, Professor, sir. Just wanted to ask about the paint job," he lied.

**Scene Three – the Great Hall**

Dinner was as uneventful as usual. Richard excused himself and went up to the end of the Gryffindor table on the pretext of talking to a student there. Granger was seated halfway down the table, between Potter and Weasley. Richard turned and found himself in direct line between her and Professor Snape, who, at the moment, was talking to another staff member.

**Scene Four – the Potions classroom**

Richard went over to the potions cupboard and got to work immediately on its messy inventory. He had had the job for a few years, due to some unusual circumstances, and was somewhat used to the habits of the Professor.

He had the place to himself, as he knew he would.

Cradling a couple of jars of nettles in his hands, he walked quickly over to the Professor's desk, where the professor had been sorting some papers. Interestingly enough, they were copies of Granger's papers, all with "O" on the top. Last year Richard had helped the Professor with reading essays and marking exams. He knew that Ernie Macmillan did better work than Granger, and that Draco Malfoy's work was just as good as hers, but where were their papers?

**Scene Five – the corridors**

There are three rules for avoiding Professor Snape when he patrols at night. Rule one: Don't be there. Rule two: See rule number one. Number three, and dangerous: Quietly follow him. He rarely looks back.

Richard took the risk and went stocking-footed on the cold stone floors. He discovered that the Professor patrolled the Gryffindor corridor five times for the one time he patrolled the other areas. That really didn't mean anything, Richard reflected. Yet while he watched the Professor pace the floor, he thought back on the times when he had duties in the hospital wing and he would watch the Professor check on the girl. She, Cormac McLaggen and Justin Finch-Fletchley seemed to be tied for amount of time spent in the hospital; only the Professor never checked in on McLaggen, and very rarely did he check on any other students.

**Scene Six – the Ravenclaw Rehearsal room**

The Rehearsal room was a vacant classroom that had been used by Ravenclaws for decades. Blotches of paint and pieces of tape were stuck on the floor, and theater posters were on the walls. One wall was half covered with a large mirror, the other half with a bookcase full of books and parchments, and boxes of make-up, small props and paint. French folding screens, a costume rack and a push broom were at the other end of the room. Mirrors-concave, convex and flat-were stored on the ceiling. An eclectic assortment of furniture, larger props and rubbish bins were piled up in a corner. There were a few chairs and floor pillows scattered around the room, some occupied by members of the troupe.

Richard was sitting in the window, waiting for a few more people to show up to make a quorum. He was dusting the boots he was wearing; he'd been a pirate in a play during the summer, and was allowed to keep them. Jerome, a seventh-year, was practicing walking and swishing his robes in front of the mirror. Cassey, another seventh-year, was sitting on the floor, charming a school robe into different colors; she was using a copy of the painter Vincent Van Gogh's "Ravens Over a Cornfield" for a guide. Cissy was lying on the floor, reading a book and toying with her hair. A few more members entered the room.

Geoff came in and immediately started laughing. "Jerome, what are you doing?"

"Before I leave this school, I want to be able to make my robes billow like Snape's," he said as he tried again.

"Well, if that's what you want, I could have told you how to do it ages ago," Cassey said. "His robes are cut on the bias, and the back gathering is higher than an ordinary robe. The fabric is also a lighter weight, the hem not so deep, therefore the back panel is not as heavy as ours are. There might be extra fabric there, too. Also, I suspect a charm might be in place, but don't quote me."

"Can you make me one?" Jerome asked.

"Just buy one. The manufacturer is 'Cilla's', and there's probably a ton of them at the second-hand shop; they went out of fashion some time ago. That's probably where Snape gets his, unless those are his originals he keeps wearing." She frowned as she kept trying to adjust the yellows on the fabric to match the picture.

Richard counted heads. There were twelve members; it was enough.

"Would you charm one for me? And make it colorful? So I could change its color when I wanted to?" Jerome asked.

"You could do it yourself. I'll teach you." Cassey promised.

Richard spoke up. "Hello, everyone." No one noticed. Richard used the Sonorous Charm. "Hello, could someone ward the door, please?"

Geoff went over to the door and set the wards. One ward would allow late Ravenclaws to walk in, but no one else. The other was a Silencing Charm to prevent eavesdropping, a nasty habit of the Hufflepuff Acting Guild and certain Slytherins.

The talk drifted off and everyone looked to Richard, who was perched on the window sill, his boots braced on the wall beneath him.

"As some of you know, we have a month and a few days to put on a play. According to rotation, we are due for a love story…"

"Aw…" Some other students playfully sighed. Cissy made kissing noises on the back of her hand.

"And due to lack of time, it will have to be original."

"What about _Romeo and Juliet_?" someone asked.

"Something we can do 'on book'," Richard added.

"Well, scratch that, we'll look like prats," a third-year remarked.

"We don't have time to memorize," Richard pointed out. "So it would have to be a love story that included books, or parchments, or letters."

"Two people reading letters to each other." Geoff snorted. "Where's the drama in that?"

"A love story of anguish and forbidden love, with defiance against the world, and death at the end," Richard said dramatically.

"Not _Tristan and Isolde_," Cassey groaned. "_Harold and Maude_?" someone else asked. "_Peter Pan_?"

"No, no, and what? No! A love story that is almost as old as Hogwarts itself, and still, after all these years, is forbidden. Passionate love between a teacher and a student." Richard smirked. "Real life, with their love left in their letters, which will be the basis for our script. Anguish, torture, and redemption."

The room was silent.

"Let's do..." Richard licked his lips. "_Abelard and Heloise_."

The room was silent.

Jerome cleared his throat, and hesitatingly asked, "Isn't that where the bloke gets, ah, chopped?"

.

* * *

><p><em>beta-ed by Somigliana and JackieJLH. Loosely inspired by historical events.<em>


	2. Act 2

**Act Two – Read-through and Blocking**

**Scene One – the Ravenclaw Rehearsal room**

Once they agreed to the play, the Ravenclaws went to work immediately. Jerome volunteered to write the script, Casey would do costumes, Geoff, scenery and lights. Other parts and assignments were quickly assigned to the practiced thespians. Richard suggested they keep the title and story secret, to increase shock value. They thought it was a brilliant idea. Old theater posters were put over the windows (leaving a small peep-hole for Richard that he could easily cover when he wasn't in his window), Silencing Charms were fixed in place and the French screens were placed to hide the room from the doorway. It was Casey's idea to illustrate them with a painting of bucolic scenery featuring playful badgers on a green hillside, with eagles soaring in the sky above.

"What are you painting, what is that thing? It looks like that new plant Professor Sprout got. A minny… Mimbulus minbltia…mimbletonia?" Chris, a third year asked.

"It's a cactus," Richard answered. He went on to paint a snake in the grass.

"Well, there's Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw." Chris motioned to the badgers and eagles. "And it looks like Slytherin there." She pointed to the snake. "Where's Gryffindor?"

"Gryffindors don't DO drama," Richard answered. "They ARE drama."

The screens were placed near the doorway and enlarged with a charm. The badgers also grew larger, and became obese, stopping their frolicking to throw their exhausted selves down and pant. The screens were then firmly stuck into place with another charm. The room secure, they prepared to procure the research for the script by first summoning the Grey Lady to be lookout, and then assigning research materials.

Not everyone would be bringing back a book on the subject, and those who did needed to check out one or two other books to throw off anyone who might be snooping.

"Anything related to _Alice in Wonderland_or anything related to Hogwarts' history would be good. Or just something that strikes your fancy," Jerome suggested. "We don't want to have one obvious area in the library made bare."

Then it was on to the library, as individuals and couples.

**Scene Two – the Library**

It was still early enough on Saturday and early enough in the term that the library had very few patrons when the Ravenclaws came "wandering" in.

Aside from the librarian, there were only two patrons, Hermione Granger and Professor Snape. She was at a table, surrounded by books and parchments; he was examining a shelf of books that happened to be in a direct line of vision. Richard felt his face smirk and forced his eyes and mouth into a more innocent expression.

And, of course, the Professor was standing right where he needed to get his books.

"Excuse me, Professor, sir," he mumbled quietly, as he indicated that he needed to reach the shelf. He picked up_ Potions and Potion Ingredients in the Works of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson_,_ Potions and Potions Ingredients in the Works of John Milton_, and _Astrolabe's Use of Potions_, silently waved them at the Professor as a farewell gesture, and hurried to check out.

The Grey Lady drifted into the library and signaled that trouble was on its way. The Hufflepuff Acting Guild was on the hunt.

The librarian was distracted while books were transfigured into odds and ends before the Ravenclaw Theatrical Society "wandered" out of the library. Other students were in the corridors, and the troupe members were able to slip back to the rehearsal room unnoticed.

**Scene Three – the Ravenclaw Rehearsal room**

Chaucer the house-elf brought up snacks from the kitchen, extra candles were lit (the windows weren't letting in much light, what with the posters all over them), parchments, quills and inks were passed out, and the Ravenclaws went to work, reading, skimming through the texts. An hour passed, disturbed only by the rustle of pages being turned and quills scratching on surfaces.

"Break time!" Richard announced.

The Grey Lady drifted out to the hallway, and then returned to give the all clear for the loo run.

After everyone came back, and the wards rechecked, the troupe got to the next stage of business. A blackboard was brought out. Jerome charmed a piece of chalk to take notes for them.

"So, what has everyone found out?" Richard asked.

"That was AWFUL!" Casey said. "Did that happen a lot back then?" The chalk recorded every word.

"Did he get a soprano voice?" a second-year asked

"I can't believe she didn't want to marry him." Cissy snorted.

"I can't believe they named their kid 'Astrolabe'," Casey retorted.

"She still wanted him. After all that," someone else said.

"Looks like they were never in the same room after that. And they still wrote to each other," Richard pointed out.

"Was the marriage annulled? Or were they still married?"

"I can't believe she laughed. Or that she could laugh, after he was dead. Not that she laughed after he was…well, you know." Lisa Turpin, a fifth-year, blushed.

"What ever happened to the uncle?"

"That was weird, his skeleton rising up to embrace her dead body." Mark, a second-year, gagged.

"Did anyone else read the hypocritical advice he gave his kid?"

"Maybe he gave that piece of advice because he learned something?" Casey retorted.

"Still sounded like he was blaming the uncle."

"Did the boy ever have his own kids?"

"That was gross, what happened to his attackers."

"Too bad the songs he wrote to her are all gone."

The ideas petered out. Richard nodded to Jerome, who looked ready to talk.

Jerome got up from his makeshift desk and chair. "I think I'll write it in four acts," the dramatist said. 'Spring' their, ah, courtship…'Summer' is their marriage, and the birth of the baby, ending with the, ah, 'great event'. 'Fall' will be the time they were living after it ("Like 'Fallout' someone snickered), and 'Winter' will be when Heloise is left to go it alone for twenty years. The play will end with her death, scratch the skeleton scene. Okay, then, let's get these questions and remarks in order of what act they belong in. If you found some great quotes, be sure to write them down and what 'seasons' they're from. I've already sent an owl to Beauxbaton's, as that's where Heloise went to school. They may have more in their library."

He waved a charm at the chalkboard: the sentences clumped down to the bottom, and the four seasons were listed across the top. The next hour was spent sorting the comments and adding to them, then listing quotes from the letters.

A simple poster was hastily designed to advertise the date, time and location of the play, with the working (and deliberately misleading) title "Happy Days". The ones for Hogsmeade and London announced that no one under the age of eleven would be admitted; this play would not be appropriate for primary school children.

After proof-reading, the silk-screen machine was dug out from under a pile of props; a still-wet jar of paint was produced from a collection of dried-out ones ("Magenta. Why doesn't magenta ever dry out," Casey groused), and the blank poster boards were pulled out from their storage behind the bookcase. The whole print process could have been done magically, but the posters would not have lasted more than a week. No one said, but everyone suspected that they didn't last very long in the common rooms anyway, probably pulled down to advertise Gobstone tournaments and whatever the Weasley twins were trying out, but there was still a chance that some students would read them.

Chaucer was summoned and given the chore to put the posters up in the various common rooms and to pass them on to the house-elves of Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley businesses for distribution. A few paper ones were rolled up to be owled to the Ministry of Magic, St. Mungo's, _The Daily Prophet_, _The Quibbler_, various wireless stations, Moving Pictures Network, and a collector in Suffolk. Not that many people came to the plays – crowds came for Quidditch – but a few generally did show up.

A hat was passed for the Obligation for Chaucer. Geoff, the treasurer, announced the amount, and Richard took on the duty to make sure that the house-elf received his due. The meeting was called to a close, with the next meeting scheduled for the following Saturday, to allow Jerome time to write the script, and everyone else to sneak him their ideas.

The troupe headed out to the Great Hall for an early lunch. Richard was the last one in the room. After double-checking that no one was returning, he went to the bookcase, and from behind his extra set of school books he kept there, he pulled out a small jar of Murtlap and slipped himself a piece from it. It was from St. Mungo's Potions Master's attempt to make mango-flavored Murtlap. It tasted terrible, but then, no Hufflepuff (or anybody else) was going be able to hex him.

**Scene Four– the Great Hall**

The Hufflepuff Actors Guild were sitting at the Ravenclaw table, wearing their Saturday robes and Muggle clothing. Their costume designer was obviously still in her beads fad (her robe was covered with the glittering stuff), and their set director was wearing a charmed tee-shirt that had bold colors swirling all over it. Melissa Robinson, their director and Richard's personal stalker, sat in the middle, wearing a school robe, with her long blonde hair flowing over it like a cape. She was the only girl he knew that could make her school uniform fit just so when the teachers weren't around. To avoid blushing, he kept his eyes on her companions.

The two troupes were early for meal time. There were no teachers at the staff table as of yet, no prefects to be seen in the Hall, and very few students.

Richard decided the best course of action would be to keep focused on the plan. He took a deep breath and smelled the unmistakable scent of a love potion. He led the troupe into the Hall, his eyes away from Melissa, trusting the taste of the Murtlap to cancel the effects of the potion's scent.

The Ravenclaws went to their usual seats. The Hufflepuffs moved to allow them their places, and then sat down around them. The scene was not unlike that of two Quidditch teams facing off before a game.

Richard grimly sat down, wondering how much Melissa knew about last year's Yule Ball. Melissa always knew how to push his buttons. She was not going to win this time. He waited for her to make the first…well, her second move.

She slid along the bench, until she was sitting next to him. "Hello, Richard."

"Melissa," he coldly replied.

"Well, Richard, you only have a few weeks before the Society puts on its play." She smiled at him. "Need some help?"

"No," he replied coolly. Melissa had the nasty habit of taking over projects.

"The title is 'Happy Days'. Sure you don't need help with the music?"

"There isn't any music." There still wasn't any food on the table, and there wouldn't be until the teachers arrived and were seated. The teachers and most of the school seemed to be uncommonly late.

Melissa sat back, tossing her hair as if she were a Veela. Richard continued to force his attention to above her neck.

"So, the title is a fake." She tilted her chin toward him. "What's the play about, Richard?"

"It's a drama, and you'll see it when everyone else does." Except for the Professor, he mentally added. He'll see it first.

She softly snorted. "You need our help if you're going to have any sort of an audience." She adjusted her robe a bit, making Richard's eyes slip down. "We can help," she said, suggestively.

Richard refocused his eyes on hers. "Look, Hufflepuff gets the pantomimes, the musicals, the operas, the farces. Ravenclaw gets the poetry bashes, the dramas, parodies, and tragedies. Romances have to fit into a category. It's in the contracts, and Hufflepuff got the big production last year anyway. You did a great job with 'The Love of Three Oranges'; it was fun, but it's time to move on." Richard wished a teacher would walk in.

Melissa pouted. "We had all three schools, and all four of Hogwarts' houses working together on that. Don't you want to have school unity? And what about open auditions, are you going to let the first-years have an opportunity to try out? Or anyone else?" she asked as she turned her head to give him a side glance.

"There are plenty of opportunities ahead. Please remember that we have only a few weeks to get this pulled together, so, no, all parts are in-house." He glared at the still empty teachers' table. It seemed as though the Great Hall was empty of all but him and Melissa.

Melissa gave him a dazzling smile and leaned toward him, putting her hand on his arm. "You said, 'we'," she purred.

He shut his aching eyes. He was getting tired and not a little annoyed with the conversation and was scrambling around in his brain for a way to get rid of her and her troupe. Then he heard Draco Malfoy come into the Great Hall, loudly arguing with someone. Who his opponent was didn't matter; it was as if Draco was right on cue.

Richard gave Melissa a malevolent smile, his grey eyes gleaming. He licked his lips.

"Melissa Robinson," he said, projecting his voice over the noises in the Hall, "are you trying to seduce me?"

All sounds stopped.

Draco eagerly hurried over to where the groups were facing off, followed by his fellow Slytherins. Melissa glared at Richard and instantly her robes were as shapeless as Professor Sprout's.

**Scene Five – The Ravenclaw Rehearsal room**

Two weeks had passed. Everything was on schedule. Casey had the costumes designed, and was finishing modifying them. Jerome was standing on a stool while she finished the hem of his robes. The sets were designed to be simple, basically bare backdrops, with scant furniture. Lighting, though, was tricky. A number of charms had to be used for lighting, coloring, brightness, shadows, and so forth. Mirrors, both concave and convex, had to be planned out for the lighting charms. The script was still being tweaked, and some of the younger troupe members were reading through the script out loud, helping Jerome and the older members to practice their lines. Meanwhile…

Knock, knock at the door.

The Grey Lady drifted in.

"Argus Filch," she announced.

Cissy opened the door.

"Found this book bag in the History classroom. Thought it might be yours," he said, handing it to her while peering into the room. The French screens blocked his view.

"Thank you, Mr. Filch. Appreciated very much. Good-bye," she politely replied and quietly closed the door on him, being careful not to squish his face or his foot as he'd shoved them both inside the frame.

The Grey Lady drifted out, and business resumed for a few more minutes, then…

Knock, knock.

The Grey Lady drifted in. "Hufflepuff," the ghost announced.

"Go away," Cissy yelled through the door.

"Can't. I've got your books, so you must have mine."

Cissy went to her book bag, and yanked out the books and looked at them, then stormed to the door and opened it.

"Here you go, Jason." She shoved the books at him. "Now where are mine?"

"Back at the common room. Stay right there, and I'll go get them." The Hufflepuff Actors Guild member grinned as he stuffed his face through the door. Cissy slammed it shut.

"Hey!" His muffled retort was heard through the door. The Grey Lady drifted back out through the wall.

A short while later,

Knock, knock.

"Hufflepuff," the Grey Lady announced.

"Cissy, I got your books."

Cissy yanked the door open. There was a short pause. "Well, where are they?"

"Say, 'please'."

She rolled her eyes. "Please, Jason, just give me my books."

He grinned at her. "Here you go, love."

She grabbed them, glaring at him, and slammed the door. One look at the books and she yanked the door open again. Jason was still outside, grinning. She threw the books at him. "Bring back MY books next time!" she snarled, then slammed the door.

Knock, knock.

"Hufflepuff," The Grey Lady announced.

Cissy opened the door again. It was Jason.

"You mean that there WILL be a next time? I dunno Cissy, you've always loved me for my body, not my mind."

"Get OUT!" she shouted. "And GIVE ME BACK MY BOOKS!" She slammed the door again.

Richard peered around the French doors. "Cissy, calm down, he's just trying to get at you."

Knock, knock.

The Grey Lady drifted back in. "Hufflepuff…"

Cissy hissed, "So help me, Jason, I'm going to jinx you into next week!" She threw open the door.

"…And Professor Snape," The Grey Lady finished. Wayne Hopkins, seventh year potions student, and Professor Snape were outside the door, surprised expressions on their faces.

Cissy yelped and threw herself down onto the floor. "Ack! I almost hexed a teacher!"

Richard, Casey and Geoff raced around the French screens and stopped, staring at the student and the professor. The Professor had his wand at the ready; Richard suspected he already had a Shield Charm in place. Cissy had pulled herself by the wall as if trying to hide.

"Uh, Professor, dir..., I mean, sir. To what do we owe the priv.. the honour of the visit?" Richard sputtered.

"The paint project you talked to me about earlier this term, Mr. Goodfellow. Mr. Hopkins here is ready to show you his results, provided, of course, that he won't be hexed for entering your sanctuary," the professor dryly replied, lowering his wand. "Of course, if you are no longer interested…"

"What? No, no, come right in, uh, wait a minute." He spoke to the others who were standing by the door, gaping. "Let's move this back a bit, give the Grey Lady some room."

About fifteen minutes later…

Knock, knock.

The Grey Lady could not check the hallway, and there was no way to hide their experiment.

Cissy opened the door a crack.

"Pizza delivery." Melissa Robinson, completely dressed, stood outside the door with the mouth-watering temptation in hand.

"Go away," Richard shoved the door shut.

Knock, knock.

"Who's there." Richard opened the door a crack.

"Banana," someone said from the hallway.

Richard shut the door firmly. "Next time, Cissy, hex them."

Knock, knock.

Cissy threw the door open, wand at the ready, gasped, and screamed.

Professor Umbridge was standing in the doorway. She was quivering with indignation, from the childish bow on top of her head, to the bows stuck on her sweater, to the ones on top of her ugly shoes.

"What is the meaning of this? You have a dark, empty classroom full of students and no teacher in sight," she fumed.

Richard stood, puzzled, and looked about him. The classroom wasn't empty. The painted badgers were sleeping on the French screens (except for the ones being devoured by eagles) and the lights were dimmed to allow the Grey Lady to be easily seen. The ghost was floating about two feet above ground, and the paint sprayed on her gave her a tie-dyed appearance. What did Umbridge think was going on? "We're…rehearsing," he said. "What's the big deal?"

"You think that I'll believe THAT! No group of students should be in an empty classroom, especially a dark one, unsupervised," she shrilly snapped.

Richard, Cissy and Geoff stood and stared at her and at each other. What next? Richard knew that the rest of the troupe on the other side of the screens were silently listening to the debate.

"Is there a problem?" Professor Snape stepped out from behind the door. Richard felt his body relax. Right on cue, the Professor saved the day.

Professor Umbridge gaped, then frowned. "My apologies, Professor Snape," she huffed. "I had it on the best authority that students were misbehaving in this classroom with no adult supervision. Hogwarts cannot tolerate such misbehaviour."

Richard realized that the Hufflepuffs had told her. How ironic, when the Hufflepuffs were infamous for their after-hours in-the-alcoves indiscretions and rumoured snog fests.

Professor Snape made no reply.

"So, what is going on in here," she peered into the room and then stared at the multicolored ghost. The ghost stared back.

"A N.E.W.T.s Potions project," Professor Snape said in a bored voice.

She frowned. "It looks toxic."

"Not to ghosts," the professor dryly replied. "If Mr. Hopkins succeeds in this project, you may receive mention in his - quite possible - Damocles Belby Award speech. That is, if he is allowed to continue his research at this time." He motioned to the colorful spectre.

Wayne Hopkins looked dazzed, as if he'd just been nominated. The Grey Lady looked as if she were dripping. Umbridge looked unconvinced, but said, "Very well. Continue the work. But I want no more reports of unsupervised behaviours, and I want this play to be done right. I have very important guests I'm inviting, and I don't want anything less than outstanding in your performance." She glared at all of the students. "Professor Snape, good night."

"Professor Umbridge," he replied, his lips barely moving. Richard gently closed the door.

Most of the troupe members immediately made their gratitude known to the teacher. "That was brilliant, Professor Snape!" "Yeah, thanks a lot." "Glad you were here." Hopkins was ignored for the moment, as he continued to bask in Professor Snape's compliment.

Richard said nothing, but carefully, nonchalantly, positioned himself in front of the painting of the cactus, whereon was perched an eagle, devouring the snake.

.

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><p><em>Beta-ed by Somigliana and RaeWhit. Thank you!<br>_


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